


When You Were Mine

by Scented_Candles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Brienne, Chef!Tormund, F/M, jealous!jaime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scented_Candles/pseuds/Scented_Candles
Summary: She married him at 19. At 26, an accident causes Brienne to lose her memories and the child she carries. When she recovers, she asks Jaime for a divorce. Like hell Jaime would let her.Or the story where Brienne finds herself and Jaime learns how to love her properly.





	1. Chapter 1

Part One:

It’s one of those beautiful, lazy summer days that Jaime likes. He wakes up early and decides to cook breakfast for his wife. He’s in the midst of grilling some fish when he hears Brienne walk into the kitchen and he calls out a good morning greeting and smiles when he feels her arms go around him, body pressing close. She tucks her head to the side of his neck, her soft light blonde hair tickling him, her breath warm on his skin.

  
“Jaime…”

He shifts, turns a little, because there is something wrong in Brienne’s voice. Fish forgotten, he presses his cheek against hers and moves to turn the stove off. He would have turned around to face her if Brienne’s hold on him hadn’t tightened to keep him from doing so. Jaime leans back against her instead and touches the arms around his waist. “Brienne?” he prompts, lifting one hand to bury in his wife’s hair, petting her, knowing instinctively she needed comfort but from what, he didn’t yet know.

Brienne buries her head against Jaime’s neck. She is shaking and Jaime is worried. He moves again to turn but she asks him to wait, please. “What’s wrong?” he inquires softly, feeling unease start to spread through him. “Tell me.”

“Jaime… these past few months have been really wonderful. I thought I could just move on and forget it but…I can’t…”

Jaime feels himself go cold. “W-What?”

“I’m sorry Jaime. I remember now…everything.”

Jaime keeps himself still, afraid that he may shatter at the tiniest movement. “How long?” he asks.

“At the Christmas Ball, in Casterly Rock… the kids were there you remember? And I saw you with Tommen and he looks so much like you, you know? And then Cersei was there and I started to remember …just small fragments at first but eventually, more and more of my memories came back…”

  
Jaime remembers the moment. Cersei had been trying to contact him for months but he had been stalwart in rebuffing her. He’d already made a choice, had chosen to live his life with Brienne and not keep chasing the shadows of what could be with his sister’s love. He hadn’t wanted to keep dishonoring his wife… not when his affair with his sister had already caused him and Brienne so much.

She had been with child back then, only a few weeks old, when she’d gotten into an accident. She had been running from him, from the knowledge of what he and Cersei did. But that had been over a year ago and her amnesia after the accident had given him ample chance to try an make amends, to make it right. _This can’t be happening. Not now, why is this happening now?_ Jaime turns to face Brienne. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are trained to the ground. _Look at me, please._ He grips her shoulders and pulls her to him, her name a pained exhale that escapes his lips, an entreaty. _No, please, not now…_ Jaime can’t breathe.

Brienne burrows her face against the crook of his neck, arms going around him and fingers holding tight to his shirt, seeking comfort, hiding from the world of pain Jaime himself had caused.

_I’m so sorry Brienne…_

“I remember what h-happened, before the accident…” Brienne says, her voice muffled and hoarse, shaking. “I didn’t mean to see. People kept telling me, but I didn’t want to believe them. But how could someone like you want someone like me, really?”

“Of course I want you…”

“You married me because I was there, you knew I’d be grateful, that I wouldn’t make any demands and I wouldn’t notice… it wouldn’t even occur to me, the truth of what you do with Cersei.”

“Brienne…” he starts, voice tight.

“But I was happy Jaime, with you… I didn’t want it to end, and I wanted to fight for us. I didn’t want to just let you go,” she said softly.

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go,” he says urgently, turning to press a kiss to her temple. The solid weight and feel of her in his arms anchors him. Jaime takes a deep, shuddering breath, closes his eyes for a moment as relief washes through him. He hadn’t even realized he had stopped breathing until the air fills his lungs. “We can make it work, we’ll go away and we can…” he stops when she shift, straightens and looks at him with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. He licks his lips nervously.

He aches, remembering when they had married, when she had looked at him with those same guileless eyes and he had promised her everything while intending to adhere to none of his vows. He touches her cheek gently, reverently. _I’m so sorry. I didn’t love you then, but I love you now._

“After the accident, I woke up thinking I was seventeen and have been in love with my neighbor for ages. I had no memories of the years after that, didn’t know that I was twenty-six, that we have beeit’s n married for almost seven years, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was,” Brianne withdraws from him and takes a shuddering breath, puts her arms around herself. “The doctors told me I had lost our child and I was sad, but I couldn’t really mourn because it didn’t feel real. I didn’t even remember being pregnant … I didn’t remember being married. But Jaime I remember our child now… our baby is all I can think about lately. If he or she would have your eyes and your smile. Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen… they all look like you and Cersei.”

It’s that sick dark feeling again. Jaime’s breath freezes inside him once more. He moves in earnest now, determined. He captures Brienne’s face between his hands. “Brienne…” he says, and in his there is a voiceless plea. She turns her eyes away from him. _Like she can’t bear to look at me._

“They’re yours, aren’t they?”

His hands drop. “Yes,” he admits quietly, green eyes searching. She still wouldn’t look at him and her body is tense, stiff, her arms still around herself as though to ward off a chill, to keep him away. “I love you,” he voices almost helplessly, because what else is there to do or say? He hands hung limply at his sides.

Blue eyes dart to him, startled, before slipping away to the side once more. She turns to look out the window. The view into their garden is spectacular. She takes in the plants they had chosen, the herbs and flowers she and Jaimie had worked hard to grow. “I haven’t forgotten the memories we’ve made these past few months together,” she tells him quetly, focusing on the greenery and thinking how they paled in comparison to her husband’s eyes. “But we weren’t happy, for most of the years we were married. You were in love with Cersei. You were with her, almost up to the very end.”

“I told her I couldn’t see her anymore. I broke things off with her after your accident. I realized I couldn’t lose you. I love you, please…” Jaime reaches out again, clasps her hands in his and brings them to his lips, kisses them. “Please.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Brienne asks softly. Her eyes are luminous, wet with tears she wouldn’t let fall.

 _Good girl, I’m not worth it._ Jaime holds on to her hands as they hung limply in his grasp. He knows she wants him to let her go, but he won’t allow it. “No,” Jaime says honestly. “It’s over now.” _I would have spent the rest of my life making it up to you._ “Brienne, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But that’s not quite true, is it?” Brienne replies. She extricates her hands from Jaime’s hold. “She’s family and the mother of your children. It’s never not going to matter anymore. You did everything for her. You even married your ugly little neighbor just so people wouldn’t suspect.”

“You’re upsetting yourself…” Jaime wants to reach out but he doesn’t think Brienne will allow him. Jaime doesn’t think he can handle Brienne rejecting his touch at the moment.

“I see her sometimes, when you touch me,” Brienne whispers, voice soft and strained. “I wonder if you’re thinking of her when you’re with me. I wonder how you could be so cruel as to use my love for you in such a way, how you could lie to me for years, bring me back presents, smile at me and pretend…” she cuts herself off, grimacing as she tries to get herself under control. “Every time Cersei gave birth to your children I was there congratulating her. Did you both laugh at how stupid I was?”

“No, of course not!”

“You’re all I’ve ever known. I was so grateful for every morsel of affection you deigned to toss my way. So happy. I don’t want to want you anymore,” she said. “Sometimes, just the sight of you hurts me and I can’t bear you touching me. I can’t even stand to look at you.”

Jaime’s eyes are blown wide and he stares at Brienne with a wounded, haunted look. “You can’t bear it…?” _You don’t want to be near me? You can’t bear my touch? You can’t even look at me?_ He couldn’t breathe. He was losing Brienne and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“I want to be with someone who wants me for who I am… I deserve that.”

Jaime thinks of that coworker of hers that always hanging around, Hyle Hunt. A rage so intense fills him, irrational but undeniable. He knows he has no right to it but his nerves are frayed and he snaps before he can control himself. “You want someone else then?” he bits out, grabbing her arms and shaking her. “Some upstart who is likely going to be with you because you’re the heiress to Tarth?”

Jaime thinks of Brienne bent over him, riding him to completion; or writhing under him, long legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his back. He thinks about the ragged rounds she makes, the small groans and soft sighs, the little hitches of her breath and how unguarded she was, in the throes of passion. Something inside him curdles, aches, a primal agony the pierces his chest and punches him in the gut so hard that every breath is driven out. He can’t bear to have someone else have Brienne. Brienne is _his._ Brienne belongs to him, with him.

These past few days, he remembers taking Brienne, being inside of her. _She hasn’t been initiating anything…she hasn’t touched me…I always touched her first, kissed her_ … Jaime remembers having to work to get Brienne interested in being with him. He had thought it was because she was simply tired. _But her body had no hesitation, her body knows me, wants me…_

He remembers the time when she had been open and honest in her desire, delighting in his answering passion for her, laughing and shedding the shyness and guard she showed to the world to reveal her true self to him. “I love you Jaime” she would cry out, would whisper, would say at random moments of the day, sometimes giving him a peck on the cheek or a full kiss on the mouth. He’d taught her not to be ashamed of her body, to enjoy how the two of them joined. He’d been patient and had reaped the fruits of it and yet, still he had pursued Cersei, had thought himself foolishly in love with his sister, when he had this woman already in his bed, in his life, in his heart.

He lets her go. “Forgive me, that was unworthy.”

She levels him with a stare. “Someone will love me, not for Tarth or for anything else but who I am,” she tells him.

“Of course.” _I already do._

“I want a divorce Jaime.”

_Never._

That rage again, desperate, all consuming. He does his best to tamp it down, runs a hand through his hair and grits his teeth because gods he wants to fall on his knees and howl, drag Brienne down with him and show her with his lips and tongue and teeth and cock how they belonged together, that no man could touch her the way he can. He wants his baby in her belly. _She can’t leave me then_. Fuck how stupid had he been, he should have spent the last few months trying to get her pregnant, ensure that he had hold on her… Jaime exhales. _What the fuck am I thinking._ “No,” he says after a moment. “Anything but that. I won’t allow it.”

If she had remained firm and recalcitrant, he could have withdstood it. He could out-stubborn his wife, he knew. But her face crumbled a little and she looked like a child for a moment, at a loss, before she whispers her name in a plea. “Jaime…”

Jaime wants to gather her in his arms and protect her from all the hurt in the world.

“Jaime… please… For most of my adult life, I’ve been so caught up trying to make you happy that I built my entire life around your convenience.” Jaime makes a strangled noise of protest but Brienne cuts him off. “Please Jaime. You’ve spent most of your life loving Cersei too right? The two of us, I don’t think we really know what we want or who we are. Don’t you think we deserve the chance to find out?”

 _If I let you go, you won’t come back. I can’t let that happen._ “You promised, for good or ill, you’ll stay with me as my wife,” he reminds her, knowing he has no right to impose but needing her to _see,_ to _stay_ with him. “Please, stay with me sweetling.”

Brienne cries then. Something melts inside of him because he loves her and he can’t bear the thought that after everything the world had thrown her way, it was he that had broken her, that had made her cry. He moves to pull her close and she lets him. Brienne had been angry, so angry and hurt, but now all she feels is sorrow for everything she had lost, her girlhood dreams, the beautiful life she thought she had built with the man she loves.

“I love you so much Jaime! So much,” she says, arms tightening around her best friend. She can feel Jaime’s hands digging into her back, pulling her closer. Brienne reciprocates, burying her face once more in the crook of Jaime’s neck. “But Jaime…I just don’t know if I can…” She pulls back after a while, and is relieved that Jaime allows it. She wipes the tears from her eyes and gives Jaime a tremolous smile. She needs space to breath so she backs away a little, dropping her eyes, unable to meet his.

Jaime keeps his arms loosely around her. “We can work on it together. You don’t have to leave.”

She turns her attention back to Jaime and presses her lips softly against his. “I know…” she pulls back again and cards her hands through Jaime’s hair, before cupping his face, memorizing each feature of this man she’d grown up always loving. “I’m sorry Jaime, but I’m not sure if I still want to try.”


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two:

 

_They were supposed to attend one of those Lannister dinners his father threw occasionally to gather everyone in the family so they could swear fealty to him – or at least it seemed to Jaime. But he was feeling deliciously relaxed after a rather enthusiastic bout of shower sex with Brienne and so he lay sprawled on the bed of their hotel room with only his pants on, unzipped, and the rest of his clothes still hanging, waiting to be donned._

_When Brienne finally exited the en-suite bathroom (with her robe on, long blonde hair still a bit damp and pulled over one shoulder, leaving a wet spot where Jaime could clearly see the markings of one pebbled nipple – he wanted that nipple in his mouth now) she took one look at him and laughed. “You’re such a child,” she chided as she moved to stand over him on the side of the bed._

_Jaime reached up and caught one of her hands in his and gave it an insistent tug. When she moved to sit on the bed he said “No, not there” and patted his lap instead, causing Brienne to roll her eyes, but she complied anyway, first putting one knee on the bed, her robe parting to give him a glimpse of a smooth white thigh, before she straddled him, the part in her robe widening to reveal her miles-long legs to his perusal._

_He placed both hands on her thighs and ran them up to her hips. “You’re wearing panties,” he said, rather disappointed, his thumbs slipping under the cloth, playing with the straps, before he moved his hands to untie her robe and slip it off of her but she grabbed his hands and entwined them with her fingers instead._

_“Oh no you don’t!” she said laughingly, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips._

_Jaime tugged his hands up and over his head, moving hers with him, so she was forced to lay her body over his. He deepened the kiss. He was unabashedly hard and thrust up seeking friction._

_“Really?” Brienne said, rearing up a little to look at him, a bit disbelieving, her eyes wide and face coloring. “Again? What are you, fifteen?”_

_He grinned up at her, allowed her to sit up once more and the wiggle of that move made him groan as she rubbed against him unintentionally. His hands moved to settle back at her hips, thumbs playing with the skin beneath the strap of her panties. “Let’s skip the party,” he said._

_“Your father will kill us.”_

_“He won’t kill_ you, _he_ likes _you.”_

 _“I know, but he might do something to_ you _and you know how much_ I _like you.”_

_He barked out a laugh, amused by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, wife? Why are you so… buoyant today?”_

_“Aside from the three orgasms? Thank you, by the way.”_

_“My pleasure."_

_Brienne laughed. “I don’t know… I just…” her face took on a solemn turn as she looked down at him with her bright blue eyes. “Sometimes, I look at you and I can’t believe you’re mine.”_

_He smiled sweetly up at her._

_The sound of her panties rending was almost loud in the following silence._

_“Jaime!”_

_“Whoops,” he said, utterly unrepentant as he tugged the scrap of lace free despite Brianne’s scandalized protestations. “It’s not like it’s hiding anything I haven’t seen before. I know how you taste, relax,” he said, grinning smugly at her groan of embarrassment. He studied the fabric for a moment. “Oh, I liked these. The matching bra opens in the front yeah? You should get another pair.”_

_“I wouldn’t have to if not for you!”_

_He sat up so she was forced to adjust and settle more firmly on his lap, the center of her right over his crotch and damn fuck his pants were in the way or he would have been rubbing up against that perfect, tight, wet heat. Still his erection was practically fighting to free itself of its own accord._

_“We really can’t miss your father’s party, you know…” Brienne said. But she was no longer as firm as before, indecisive, biting her lip and making Jaime groan at the sight._

_“We won’t miss it,” he promised as he nibbled at her bottom lip, hands moving, nimble fingers already untying the sash of her robe and slipping it down and there it was, that nipple he’d been so adamant about putting in his mouth earlier. He dipped his head and did just hat, making Brienne gasp squirm and try to push him away, and then after a heartbeat (and some insistent sucking, a nibble and a lick or two) clutch at him, hands fisting his hair, his name a breathless sigh on her lips._

_After a while, he released the poor nipple with a wet pop. It was still pebbled, but red now instead of pink and rather swollen. It looked like a cherry. He wondered idly if they had cream in the refrigerator. He’d put a dollop on top of her nipple and lick it off only to do it over again._

_He’d done that before, played with her nipples for hours until she was begging for him to stop, to take her, ‘Jaime inside me, come on, stop teasing’ she had demanded adamantly at first but by the end she had just been mewling his name. It hand taken only a brush of his fingers on her clit before she was coming…._

_He licked his thumb and flicked the red nub, making Brienne moan his name, her hold on his hair tightening._

_“We should order cream…” he murmured to himself, looking away from her nipple and at Brienne once more. She wasn’t even really looking at him, but instead was watching his hands. Hers were on his shoulders now, gripping him, nails biting into his skin as she panted. He let one of his hands wander to play with her other breast, its poor nipple neglected, watching with pupils blown wide as Brienne arched against him when he pinched it before giving it a kiss in apology._

_She was flushed with arousal as she pressed against him, her face now hidden in the crook of his neck, her each breath a kiss on his skin. He smiled smugly, noting the way she was moving against him. He liked teasing her like this and he tried valiantly to ignore his throbbing cock that wanted inside her_ now _._

_“I hate you,” she muttered against his neck even as she placed a kiss there before moving up to bite his earlobe. “Also, your pants are in the way.”_

_Gods, she was so hot and wet now he could feel her through his pants, the cloth damp with the mixture of both their desire. He moved again, upending her so that she was the one splayed on the bed now, knees parted and robe open, all that pale creamy freckled flesh just for him. Her head was cradled in his hands._

_“I promise we’ll attend the party…” he said, planting a needy demanding kiss on her lips. “But no one said we couldn’t be late.” He moved up and away from her for a moment, to shed his pants, and in his haste, almost tripped on his underwear._

_He relished the sound of her laughter even as it devolved into gasps and moans and the sound of his name slipping through her lips, those beautiful blue eyes dark with desire and sparkling with mirth._

 ~*~

 

“Fuck,” Jaime mutters under his breath as he stares up at the ceiling of the room he used to share with Brienne. He’d had a sex dream about his wife – his estranged wife. She’d probably punch him if she knew. Of course his subconscious would choose to torment him too.

She was staying in one of the guest bedrooms. Although she clung to her ludicrous notion of them getting divorced, he’d managed to convince her to stay for a while, give him time to convince her to do otherwise, give them a chance. She had agreed not to leave at least until the kids’ summer visit was over. It was tradition, all of them spending two weeks together. Usually a weekend at the family cabin, some time spent in Casterly Rock, and a theme park or two.

He was hard and his wife was just fucking down the corridor probably sleeping in those stupidly short shorts of her that showed off her legs. The sight of her bending down to pick something up in those shorts was enough to get him hard. Even the memory of it had him salivating. It was positively Pavlovian. “Shit.”

Jaime refused to masturbate in his marriage bed with his wife in the same house. It just wasn’t done. But fuck he was uncomfortable. He ached and throbbed and wanted to bury himself inside the warmth of Brienne’s cunt and fucking stay there forever.

Their marriage bed had always been a place of enjoyment and shared laughter. He had taken such pleasure in her – her eagerness to learn, to please him, her kindness, her surprising humor. Sex with Cersei had always been about passion and need, two parts of a whole coming together as naturally as breathing. But they’d never really laughed together, not since they had been children, not since their mother had died.

Would things have been different had she lived? She had caught them once before. He and Cersei had been exploring each other’s bodies, how they were different and yet the same. They had looked so much alike then that not even their father could tell them apart. They had been so young. Their mother had explained that some touches should not be shared between siblings - that they shouldn’t do it again or she’d be forced to tell their father.

Jaime had been afraid then. Of the look in their mother’s eyes, the invocation of their father’s name, and the very idea that they were doing something wrong, something bad. But Cersei had comforted him. “But we’re one and the same,” she had said. “When I touch you, it’s just like touching a part of myself. They aren’t twins, they don’t understand. They can’t.”

And they had been careful after that… and then a year later, they didn’t need to be so careful anymore. Tyrion had been born and with his birth came their mother’s death.

Jaime sighed and looked at the empty space beside him. He reached out a hand and smoothed it down the cool sheets. His chest felt tight and he let out a breath, trying to ease it.

There were only three rooms in the house, and the other two guest rooms were really dedicated for Tommen and Myrcella. Brienne would need to come back to their own bed when the kids arrived in a week’s time. Jaime both longed for and dreaded it. How would he survive having her right beside him, within arm’s reach, but being unable to do anything about it?

He hasn’t really touched her since that day, when she told him of most of her memories returning. It wasn’t just sex, even the casual touches he had taken for granted in the past had gone missing from their interactions. _That is, if we interact at all._

He missed Brienne, he missed his wife, and despite his efforts at staving off the very real fear of her leaving him, he can’t.

 

~*~

 

He shuffles over to the kitchen after a shower. It was an airy place, full of windows that allowed the garden they had painstakingly built to become a part of the space. He heard birds chirping and the sight of his twenty-something wife eating a bowl of cereal and a banana, looking bright and well-rested and the picture of health pricked him wrong.

He's wearing a shirt Brienne had said before brought out his eyes. He's beautiful, he knows it, has always known it because people had never been shy about telling him so. And Brienne had on several occasions expressed that she liked how he looked so it couldn't hurt to emphasize it. Except that in three days, the kids would be arriving. Jaime hadn’t slept very well at all since Brienne's confession about her memories and his eyes were bloodshot and he was so very tired and on edge. He was aware of the each day passing by bringing him ever closer to Brienne's departure.

When he thinks about it, he feels a rising panic but he always tamps it down because that won't really do anything but make him even more stressed and a stressed Jaime was usually an asshole Jaime. Not really conducive to making Brienne stay.

“You can’t stay here all the time you know," Brienne says when she notices him. "You have a job.”

He prickles at that, heckles rising. “You think I care if I lose my job when it’s very possible that if I leave, you might not be here when I come back?" he snaps, mentally wincing the second the words leave his mouth. 

Her eyes narrow and she frowns at him. “I promised you until after the kids’ visit didn’t I? I said we can discuss the divorce after. I won’t do anything to break my word.”

“No, you’re too good for that, aren’t you?”

She stares at him, eyes unreadable. “Are you mocking me?”

“You said you’d _try,_ " Jaime says, suddenly angry, voice rising, full of frustration driven by desperation and grief because he had so much to lose and it hurt to know it was looming over him, a real possibility. "You said that you’d give me a chance.” He motioned to the space between them. “This is not giving me a chance Brienne. This is not giving us a chance.”

“Every day after our wedding day was a chance for us, our entire mariiage before my accident was a chance for us," Brienne answers him, voice soft and calm. "And didn’t I say I started remembering last Christmas Ball? It’s summer now Jaime. Months have passed. Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

“Try harder,” he demanded, stomping over and gripping her arms, tugging her close, gathering her unto himself without any intention of letting go. “Please, Brienne. You have try,” he said into her hair. She was still in his arms for a moment before she fought to have him release her. He clung to her harder. 

“Don’t think I’ve tried?" she cries out, planting her hands on his chest and firmly pushing him away. 

Jaime staggers back, feeling the imprint of her arms like firebrands on his chest. She had pushed him away, fucking pushed him away with those same hands that had always grabbed on to him, held on to him, clasped him to her, and Jaime nearly dies from the pain of it.

"I have! I've tried!" Brienne says, backing away from him, arms around herself as if to ward him off. "I’ve done my best but… I saw you! Don’t you understand? I didn’t find out from anyone else, I saw you with her! I saw you! And I can’t unsee it!” she turns to leave but Jaime catches her in his arms and says her name, a plea. She tries to shake him off for a moment before she stills, saying the words that make him drop his hands, a cold suffusing him as he is filled with despairing disbelief. 

“Everything you did, you did for Cersei, because you love her. Did she tell you she visited me at the hospital? It was right after the accident, after the doctors had told me I had a miscarriage. I was confused, I didn’t remember anything and she was there, acting like my dear sweet sister-in-law who had always been very kind to me. She touched my hair and smoothed it back, leaned in close and said ‘It wasn’t even really a child Brienne, just a blob. They call it a blastocyst at that stage. So you didn’t really lose anything, just some blood.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy it when Brienne is confident and like exploring how she gets there. So here is a new story from me. As usual, no beta so any mistakes are mine alone. I hope you enjoy the journey with me!


End file.
